Crashing the Congressman’s Wedding (Crimson Romance) (3 page)

Mouse pressed his wet nose to Justin’s jacket pocket and snorted.

“Those aren’t for you. Just some fancy mints.”

The dog yapped a blast of rancid air at Justin’s face. “On second thought … ” He reached into his pocket, pulled out the wedding favor and ripped open the netting. “Sit.”

Mouse whined again, but he sat long enough for Justin to drop three mints between two rows of yellow teeth.

“Good, boy.” Justin patted the dog’s head before he reached for the screen door handle.

When Mouse lifted the torn edge of the screen with his nose and dashed inside, Justin paused. Twenty years ago, he would have followed, but tonight he should knock.

After the third knock and no answer, he pushed inside. “Alice?”

The dog replied with a deep snort of Justin’s jacket pocket. “No more, boy. They’re all gone.”

He stepped around the dog, walked between two discolored couches and ducked beneath an archway into the empty kitchen. The same bowl of fruit he’d been robbing apples from for decades perched on the mint green counter top. There were no apples now, not since Mrs. Cramer passed away. Now the bowl was filled with snack bags of Doritos. He shook his head and smiled.

“Alice, we need to talk.”

There was the possibility she didn’t go home after the drama at the church, but the door was open and the lights were on. He only hoped the Parrishes didn’t somehow get here first.

Leaving the kitchen, Justin stepped down a long hallway lined with outdated family photos, and passed Charlie’s old room. A few more steps and he stuck his head around a peeling doorjamb. He noted the same pink shag carpet, the same floral wallpaper, the same canopy bed. Only the bed looked much smaller with her grown-up body sprawled atop the ruffled comforter.

“Alice?” He walked to her, tucked a yellow curl behind her ear and smoothed a hand over her bare back.

She sniffed, rolled over and a bottle of whiskey fell to the floor. Eye makeup smeared across her cheek. “You got married.”

“And you got drunk.” He hoisted an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “Sit up. We need to talk.”

“I’m not drunk. I’m … you got married. Charlie. The banshee. Tiara.” Her voice trailed off.

Mouse howled in the other room, and all but Justin’s churning gut froze. The sense of doom told him it was only a matter of time before Morgan and her parents came looking for Alice. And in Alice’s current state, the confrontation wouldn’t be pretty. Justin wished he didn’t care. Alice assumed the consequences by standing up in church. He didn’t want to defend her. He wanted answers.

Mouse barked again, the sound fading into the distance as the dog no doubt bolted across the lawn after whatever — or whoever — raised the alarm. A blast of acid burned Justin’s throat, and he let Alice fall out of his arms on to the bed. He shouldn’t have come. If the Parrishes blocked him in the driveway, he’d be trapped in the eye of the storm. With all this adrenaline coursing through his veins, Justin couldn’t guarantee his usual poise.

The screen door rattled.

Justin looked to the rectangular window, hugging the low ceiling. He wondered if he was strong enough to hoist himself up and out before someone came in.

“Charlie has a tiara,” Alice slurred, struggling to sit. She reached out, steadying herself by smashing Justin’s cheeks between her palms.

The screen door banged again.

Maybe it was Charlie … Justin didn’t want to face the man who slept with his fiancée any more than he wanted to face Morgan and her parents, but Charlie would have answers, too.

“Did you hear me?” Alice spoke clearer and louder now, blowing puffs of whiskey across Justin’s face.

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to her lips, straining to hear movement in the other room.

A rattle. A rustle. Two quick sniffs. Mouse exploded from the hall and leaped onto the bed.

A sickening heat crawled over Justin’s face as he struggled for a normal breath. This damn dog would be the death of him.

Alice rested her weight against the pooch, while the dog’s enthusiastic tail pummeled Justin’s side. His unsteady breathing mixed with the thumps of the tail and the whimpers from Alice, but otherwise, no ominous sounds drifted in from the hall.

Justin tried again, shoving an arm behind Alice’s back, pulling her to sit. “We need to talk.”

“Talk.” She swayed, and then she sighed. “No, sing.” She must’ve downed the bottle in three gulps to be this drunk this fast.

She clutched the lapel of his tuxedo and belted out a sloppy tune about the sun. Justin sorely doubted the optimistic lyrics.

Growling in frustration, he stood. He wasn’t going to get a damn thing out of her but more aggravation for him. How long would it take her to sober up?

Justin paced the shag carpeting, breathing deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He had options. He could leave and find Charlie, get the answers there. But where to look for Charlie and whether or not he was any more sober than his sister made it an unappealing option.

Justin yanked on his bowtie. He could go home, lock his doors, shut off his phones and brood until he felt calm enough to face the situation head on. But talking to Morgan and trusting whatever she’d say wasn’t appealing, either. And God knew he didn’t want to face his family so soon after leaving them to clean up his mess at the church. He winced. All along he’d wanted a plastics plant, not a wife. Now he was about to end up with neither.

Mouse yelped and, hurdling Alice’s lifeless body, raced by Justin and into the hall. Any progress Justin made at slowing his heart rate flew out of the room with the dog. Every muscle in his body contracted, pumped full of adrenaline. Fight or flight. Justin took a step toward the door. When Alice moaned, he glanced back. She knew something, something that would help him understand what happened in the church and what should happen now.

Mouse reappeared, tail wagging, snorts of playfulness rustling Justin’s pants. The jumpy dog was going to give Justin a heart attack before he got a coherent word out of Alice.

With all his muscles cocked and loaded, it was only a matter of time before Justin strode across the room and scooped her into his arms. “Come on, Alice. We need to talk.” Mouse barked again. Justin couldn’t concentrate in this constant state of fear. “But not here.”

“Why?” she whimpered.

“People are coming.”

“What people?”

“Angry people. Come on. I need you to walk.” He helped her to her feet.

“Why are people angry?” She fell to the floor in a boneless heap, Mouse yipping beside her.

Another adrenaline surge and Justin took control, lifting her into his arms where she snuggled her face to his neck. He squeezed his shoulder to his ear to stop the tingles.

“You got married.” She sniffed.

“No … I didn’t.” His strong strides down the hallway made him too winded to say more.

She squirmed until he had no choice by to drop her on her feet in the living room. “What did you say?” She grabbed fistfuls of tuxedo to keep her balance.

Justin looked over her head, out the screen door and into the front yard. His car idled in the driveway. If they could make it there before anyone else showed up, he could drive in relative peace, giving Alice plenty of time to sober up and provide answers.

“We’ll talk in the car.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the porch.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.” But he couldn’t stay here with all this rush and worry in his head, and she shouldn’t stay here, not in her condition, not when she couldn’t defend herself should irate Parrishes arrive to exact revenge.

Mouse yelped and nipped at Justin’s pocket.

“He’s hungry.” Alice dropped to her knees, resting her weight around the dog’s neck.

Justin slammed his hands through his hair and stared into the graying sky. “Charlie can feed him.”

“Charlie’s gone.”

The pooch ran toward the porch, and Alice gave chase, tumbling to the lawn. Justin flashed his eyes between the ragged pair. “Where’s his food, Alice?”

She giggled in the grass as the dog raced by. “At the store.”

“What do you mean at the store? Don’t you have any here?”

“Nope.” Her lips sputtered on the “p” sound.

Justin growled as more adrenaline juiced his veins. Forget it. Here he was standing in the Cramer’s front yard, the ringmaster to Alice’s circus, when what he needed to be doing was getting the hell away.

Thunder rolled. Justin glanced at the darkening sky and shook his head. It figured. When it rained, it freaking poured. He looked at Alice. Her head had fallen to the side. Her eyes were closed. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically. No matter how much and how fast he wanted to get away, he couldn’t leave her passed out on the lawn in the middle of a thunderstorm.

He stepped toward her as the first drop fell and lightning lit the sky. No wonder the dog was so spooked. Justin dragged the drunken drama queen into his arms, and another drop fell. Then another. With a long exhale and a burn in his thighs, he hoisted her off the grass. By the time he took his first step, the sky unleashed.

Son of a bitch.
Justin breathed through gritted teeth as rain pelted his face. When lightning flashed again, he flinched and adjusted her in his burning arms. Only after he deposited her onto the passenger seat and closed the door did he see the dripping dog at his side.

Mouse’s tail wagged despite the miserable weather.

“Go inside, boy,” Justin yelled above the pounding rain. He pointed to the house for emphasis, but the dog only circled him as he crossed in front of the car, heading for the driver’s seat. Another lightning flash, and the dog yelped.

“Fine. Fine!” Justin hollered, opening the back door for the mutt. He regretted the slipshod decision the minute he caught sight of wet paws and overgrown claws on flawless leather. But what else could he do? It was too late to change course now.

By the light of another crackling bolt, Justin pulled onto the country road. Water dropped off the ends of his hair and slipped down the sides of his nose while his heart hammered in his chest. If that weren’t enough misery to handle, his throat clenched at the stench of wet dog while his hands strangled the wheel.
Holy hell.
What had he done?

Alice snored beside him. Her head pressed against the passenger side window, and her feet disappeared beneath her dress. He’d planned to drive around until she sobered up, but at this rate, she’d sleep for hours.

He glanced at the gas gauge.
Hours.
The tank would be empty by then.
Hours.
He groaned. He didn’t have hours to waste. He should’ve formulated a plan by now, figured out a way to neutralize what happened at the church, finagled a way to get the plastics plant without compromising his principles by taking a cheating woman for his wife.

Maybe he’d drive until the rain stopped and then dump Alice and the dog back home whether he had answers to his questions or not. But first, he needed gas.

Five miles down the lonely country road, he slowed at a stoplight and glanced at the gas station. Between the windshield wipers’ frantic swipes and the splatters of relentless rain on the windshield, Justin saw the Parrish Lexus parked alongside Pump Six. He locked his jaw, tightened his hands around the wheel and blew through the light, heading out of town.

With the gas gauge needle buried in red, Justin finally stopped for gas two towns over. While Alice slept, he bought Mouse some beef jerky and an air freshener for his car, and then he sat as the car idled, staring at droplets on the windshield. He was screwed. Morgan would never admit to cheating on him, so no matter what Alice knew, it was a Cramer’s word against a Parrish’s word, and that wasn’t even a contest where public opinion was concerned. Morgan had never made a misstep — at least not one that she’d ever been caught in. Alice and Charlie? The list of missteps was too long to count.

Justin dropped his head to the headrest and closed his eyes. When Mouse stuffed his head into the center console and nudged Justin’s hand, Justin patted the dog’s damp fur. “Now what, buddy?”

The dog didn’t answer. Of course the dog didn’t answer. Justin opened his eyes and scowled at the sunroof. The fact that he was disappointed that the dog didn’t answer only highlighted his dysfunctional state of mind. And through it all, Alice slept, like nothing remotely unnerving had happened. A red mark peeked out from beneath her cheek where her face met the door. The strange tilt of her neck made him wince. She was going to wake up hung over and hurting.

Justin shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket, balled up the still-damp cloth and, reaching past the dog, shoved the jacket beneath Alice’s head. She whimpered, and a strand of hair curled into her mouth. He leaned closer to tug the curl from her lips. His heart throbbed in his throat. Even with four vents blasting cold air in his direction, he was on fire. It’d been a long, strange day, and he had no idea how to make it right.

Justin resettled into his seat and gripped the wheel. He dreaded going home without a plan of attack, but he couldn’t drive around aimlessly. With a sigh of defeat, he guided the car from the parking lot to the road where he caught sight of a reflection in his headlights. A road sign. Interstate 79. That’s where he wanted to be. Headed to Carolina. Nobody would find him there.

His body reacted to thought as though a decision had been made, and his foot tramped the gas pedal. As the car rocketed up the highway ramp, Justin knew he was crazy. Dragging Alice Cramer and her mangy mutt to Carolina was the ultimate proof. When he blew by the next exit without turning around, he feared the lunacy was permanent.

Through it all, he kept breathing, kept driving, hoping the monotonous journey would calm his heart and the quiet would inspire his mind. With any luck, the panic was temporary and he’d have a grip on his emotions and a solid plan by morning.

He hoped so.

When Alice woke up sober and saw what he had done, there’d be hell to pay.

• • •

Alice opened her eyes, and she could’ve sworn she saw a big old sign that read “Welcome to Carolina Beach.” With her eyes closed again, she lamented the funniness of dreams, sometimes so vivid they seemed real. Smells and all.